Kiss Me
by sparklinggayboy
Summary: Carl and Hoodsey are going to be sophomores- Hoods thinks it's time to grow up. What happens when their friendship relies on Blake Gripling teaching Carl to act his age? Read to find out. Carl/ Blake.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, everyone! This is my first ATBG fanfic. Carl/Blake. OMBM= OH MY BIG MAN.**

* * *

(Carl's POV)

"Summer is coming to an end and we have nothing to show for it, Hoodsey."

"I know, Carl, but we've both been so busy. You had summer school, my sister had a baby, and I've got a girlfriend in college. There's just no going back to how things were last summer."

"Why not?"

"Because we're not kids anymore, Carl. For the big man's sake, we're going to be sophomores tomorrow!

"So? Sophomores aren't adults. Tenth grade is that awkward year where people expect you to take high school seriously, but inside you're still an eccentric freshman waiting for the perfect moment to drop green slime on the teacher's head."

"I don't think you're understanding my point. I think you need to grow up, Carl."

"I don't want to grow up. I want to stay in neverland like a modern day Peter Pan."

"If you want to be outgrown by all your lost boys, then be my guest. I'm going home, Carl, good luck with Captain Hook. I hear he wants revenge on you for feeding his hand to an alligator."

"I think it was a crocodile."

"Whatever. Don't talk to me until you get a grip on reality."

"Fine, who needs you, anyway! At least Tink won't outgrow me!"

If I wasn't so upset right now I would be cracking up at my last statement. I gotta say, even though my best friend just walked out on me, that was pretty clever. Because, ya know, Tinkerbell is a tiny fairy. I am utterly amazed in the face of my own hilarity. (Obviously, as a man I have to keep myself from breaking down in the face of tragedy so I'll just brag about myself.)

But on a serious note, what am I going to do without Hoodsey? He's literally the only person I can stand being around for an extended period of time. Everyone else is boring in comparison. This is probably the worst thing to happen all summer. And not to mention that school starts tomorrow- Hoods and I made sure our schedules matched to ensure maximum scheming time. I really can't imagine being partnered with someone else.

I laid back on my bed and stared at my spit-ball covered ceiling. Hoodsey and I had numerous spit-ball contests throughout the years. The point of the game is to see who can get the biggest one to stick, if the spit balls are the same size the game is a tie. (Unless one falls, of course.) The best part of it all is that sometimes the spit balls will fall off and land on my mom or Ginger. Talk about funny.

I bet Hoodsey thinks that that kind of humor is for babies. What's his deal, anyway? It's not like I'm hurting anyone by being a little childish. I just don't want to play into the whole "growing up" thing. It's a stupid system. Young people work a shit ton until they're old enough to get paid for their work, just so they can continue working until they die. After that they're buried and forgotten. That's not for me.

Having fun and being happy is what life is about, so why spoil it with unnecessary adult horse shit? Thanks a lot, Hoodsey, now I've got my panties in a bunch. I hate questioning existence, it makes me feel empty.

I felt my phone buzz in my back pocket, so I sat up and pulled it out. The only person that texts me is Ginger, and it's usually to tell me that dinner's ready. But I didn't recognize the number. So I figured I might as well open it to find out who it was. I opened it. It was my on again off again friend, Blake.

Blake: I heard you had a big blow out with Robert.

Carl: Call him Hoodsey, u smug douchefag.

Blake: He told me he prefers to be referred to by his birth name. I will not disrespect a gentleman for no good reason, Carl.

Carl: Fine. Then I want to be called the incredible Hulk. U can't disrespect my wishes because u have no reason to be sour with me.

Blake: Do not mock me. I am trying to speak to you about a serious matter.

Carl: How'd u get this number, anyway?

Blake: I have my ways, Carl.

Carl: So u asked Courtney to ask Ginger?

Blake: Yes.

Carl: Scandalous.

Blake: Can you get serious for a moment, please?

Carl: I'm not sure I'm ready for that kind of commitment, Blakey-boy.

Blake: Haha, Carl, hilarious.

Carl: Sarcasm doesn't translate through text very well, so I'm going to take that as you acknowledging my great sense of humor.

Blake: I'm just going to say what I need to say, and ignore your sorry attempts to be a comedian.

Blake: You see, I was speaking Robert minute ago, and he told me that you guys would remain at an impass until you grew up a little. So I thought that I would offer you my services. ( For a small fee, of course.)

Carl: "Your services?" That sounds pretty shady. What kind of services are you offering me?

Blake: I will make you into a man.

Carl: Whoa there, Blakey-boy, I'm flattered that u feel that way for me, but I think I'm straight.

Blake: Blast you, Fouttley, you know what I meant!

Carl: No I don't. It all just sounds like ur hitting on me.

Blake: I am most certainly NOT hitting on you.

Carl: Well that's too bad. I'm one hell of a catch.

Blake: You're insufferable.

Carl: Nobody is forcing you to text me. Ur willingly force feeding me your time.

Blake: I suppose you're right...

Carl: When am I not?

Blake: Let us not go down this road at this current moment, Foutley. This conversation has been de-railed from it's original purpose for long enough.

Carl: Goddamn, just hurry up and tell me what u want to tell me.

Blake: I wish to give you lessons on how to be less of a childish nitwit.

Carl: What makes u think I'd want lessons from someone who called me a nitwit?

Blake: Face it, Carl, you can't survive without Robert and you'll never become a gentleman on your own. You need me like Jack from the Titanic needed a raft.

Carl: That analogy makes me sound desperate.

Blake: You are desperate, old boy.

Carl: How much is this going to cost me?

Blake: let us discuss that in person. I'm thinking tomorrow after school at my place. Well then, I'll see you tomorrow. Ta for now!

Carl: Wait, I don't want to go to ur house.

Carl: Gripling?

Carl: U are so totally reading this right now.

Carl: U better answer me, u sadistic bastard.

Carl: ...I fucking hate u, ombm.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry that I write short chapters. I'm not sorry for Carl's terrible text speak or his potty mouth. (I'm trying to get the story set up so it's slow, I guess. I've never been a good writer but I thought I'd try to write something.) Anyway, I hope you all like it!

* * *

( Blake's POV)

It's incredible how easy it is to get Carl's goat. After the cellular phone chat I had with him, I couldn't help but laugh to myself. He surely is a strange fellow, that Carl. He brings out the conniving, cunning, and sneaky side of me. That happens to be a good thing. I am what you could say "a typical spoiled rich kid" so having a rival makes me, well, not boring. I dare say that he is my better half.

Even though he's a twit, I cherish him a rather immense amount. I recall how kind he was to me when my father was taken into custody by the law, and my family was reduced to common wealth. It was a very emotional time that I was able to get through because of him. But all of that ended. My wealthy grandfather died, leaving his fortune to my mother so I no longer had reason to call on Carl. It's funny how misfortune can bring fortune, and fortune can bring misfortune. I definitely miss being so close to Foutley. He is the only man whom I would blindly follow into the pits of hell. So needless to say, I'm oddly attached to that mess of a gent.

Honestly I can't say that I am not pleased by this new development in Carl's and Robert's relationship. That hooded freak soaks up every last second of my dear friend's time. With him out of the picture I'll have plenty of time to fill the void inside of Carl's heart. There should be plenty of free space in his schedule. Arguably, if I love him so much I should want him to be happy...But I am selfish. I do not wish for him to be happy unless I am the source of such joy. I will shove my presence so far down his gullet that he won't able to function properly with me!

Teaching him to be a gentleman is just a front, of course. A silly boy like him will never truly be an adult. I can picture him in his 40's watching toons and eating jell-o in his baked potato. It's all a part of his charm, in my opinion. I just enjoy him so much.

Goodness gracious, look at the time. It's already late noon. I have been fauning over Carl for far too long. I better get dressed for dinner. I stood from my bed and smoothly made my way to my dresser to adorn myself in a handsome over shirt and pleated khaki pants. I really am quite dashing, I think as I stare at my reflection. I comb my short (perfectly wavy) blonde hair and call the maid to see if dinner is ready. She replies with a stern "almost, young master." She's a quiet woman that has never cared for conversation. Or my family for that matter. I head down to the dinning hall.

(Hoodey's POV)

"Why does Carl have to be such a baby all the time? I just want to be able to talk to him about something other than pranks or detached human body parts. Is it so much to ask for to have a friendship based on more than just getting into trouble together?" I asked my beautiful girlfriend. Her face became very serious all of a sudden.

Macie really is the best thing in my life right now. Sometimes I feel like she's the only person in the entire universe that understands me at all. Heck, I used to think that about Carl. I don't really know what to do anymore. My mother told me that to become a man I need to first get rid of any childish things. After I do that, she said, I can start on the road to manhood.

I'm pretty much desperate to be a man. My girlfriend is a woman, and I can imagine how embarrassing it is to have a little kid for a partner! But what is being grown up about, anyway?Going to college? Getting a job? Starting a family? Everything seems to be happening so quickly. A voice broke me away from my thoughts.

"Robbie? Are you listening?"

"No, I wasn't. I zoned out there for a minute."

"I was saying that I think being a little childish is okay sometimes. The little seal girl says that there's a child inside of us all. She's never steered me wrong before."

"So you're saying that Carl doesn't need to grow up for me to be on my way to manhood?"

"Robbie, dear, that is the dumbest thing I have ever heard. Who said that you need to do that? You shouldn't be trying to grow up so quickly. You only get one childhood."

"Why are you so smart?"

"It's a gift."

"Will you excuse me for a second? I need to make a text real fast."

"No problem."

"Okay, I'll be right back."

"I'll be left front. Haha." I stepped outside and sent a text to Blake.

Hoodsey: Forget about what I told you. I don't really care if Carl is a big baby. I had a chat with Marcie about it all, and it just seems like a silly reason to be angry at him.

Blake: What?! I have already made the plans to start lessons with him! I will not let you humiliate me in such a way, Robert Joseph Bishop!

Hoodsey: How is canceling his lessons humiliating?

Blake: By taking back my promise to make him a man, I will look like an utter fool. I offered him my services for you, old boy. I desired to help you, and this is the payment I get for my generosity! Why ask for my help if you were just going to change your mind?

Hoodsey: Why are you taking this so personally?

Blake: Because I had my heart set on solving this little dilemma for you. It meant the world to me that you were willing to share your drama with me.

Hoodsey: I wasn't trying to upset you, Blake.

Blake: How about we work something out. Give me two weeks with Carl. After two weeks if he has not made any improvements, all lessons will come to a halt. If improvements are made, he continues learning.

Hoodsey: I guess if that would make you feel better.

Blake: Right-o it would! You won't regret your decision to surrender Carl over to me.

Hoodsey: I'm not surrendering anything. I'm trusting you to take care of him.

Blake: And take care of him I shall. Just try not to speak with to him until the two weeks are up. I want him to think that he needs me. Are we clear?

Hoodsey: Crystal...: /

Blake: It's settled, then. Let us converse later. Ta!

Hoodsey: Bye.


	3. Chapter 3

**Car's relationship history (I guess.) WARNING! This chapter is a little inappropriate. **

* * *

(Carl's POV)

Blake Gripling is the biggest asshole of this century. I am not looking forward to seeing him at school tomorrow. He's so uppity and pretentious; I can hardly stand being around him anymore. When his father first went to prison he pretty much attached himself to me. It was like he was a kitten and I was a ball of yarn. The poor guy was in a slump, so of course I didn't tell him to shove off or anything. I just kind of let him hang around me.

I know that he has a good side. There were times that I thought that I could actually be his long term friend. But he always ruined it by being whiny or clingy. So I'm at a crossroad. Do I take the lessons or lose Hodsey as my best friend? (I don't even consider the latter an option, to be honest.) It's times like these that make me wish that Noelle was still around. She always gave the best advice and was there for me whenever I needed her. But more often than not, I was too busy with Blake to be with her.

Every time I made plans with my girlfriend, Blakey-boy would have some kind of break down. She was sort of pushed out of the picture by that snot nosed brat. Hoodsey was willing to hang out with Blake, but he didn't really like it. In the end, Noelle ended up moving to another state where there was a monthly meeting for people with supernatural abilities. She hasn't called for about a year, but I think it's safe to assume that she's doing okay. I really did love her.

Noelle wasn't the last person that I have loved since 6th grade. I've had little flings here and there, but none of them lasted very long. I dated Polly for a month which was pretty cool. She sure was a strange girl. When she asked me out, she sent a dove with a note tied around its leg to my house. The note read "YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN AS A SUITABLE MATE FOR ME. THE TYPICAL DATING RITUALS WILL START TOMORROW." How could a guy say no to that? Talk about classy.

She never wanted to hold my hand or kiss me. She preferred to stick to dressing as a bird and playing parrot world with me. I have to admit, I used to enjoy that game. It was really imaginative. It all kind of went down hill when a foreign exchange student joined our class and brought his exotic pet bird to class. Polly took an instant interest in him and started to spend all of her time at his house. She kept telling me that she was just trying to mate one of her favorite birds with his, though I knew that was bullshit because she never brought the bird with her. Eventually I just told her that if she liked him better she should be with him; who am I to get in the way of love?

After the break-up I was pretty down in the dumps. Hoodsey tried his best to comfort me, but he was pretty enamored with Macie. She really is his match made in heaven. For some reason my relationships never work out. There was one point where I was so in love that I wanted to get married. The woman died at my dinner table, though; she was very old. She was also the greatest person in the history of the universe. Maude was an amazing person that understood me more than any single person has in my entire life. It was like we were made of the same kind of stuff. (Mischief and fairy dust.)

Our days were filled with laughter and harmless pranks. I really hope I made the last bit of her life a good experience. When I think about it, I've never really had a normal taste in women. I like girls that can hold their own and keep up with my pace. If they don't have a sense of humor they aren't worth the ground I walk on. A girl also needs to have something that sets her apart- a skill worthy of conversation. Maude was really good at pulling pranks and getting into trouble, Noelle was incredibly strange and she was telekinetic, and Polly liked to dress like a bird. I don't think I can settle for anything less than abnormal.

The only other relationship I had was with an 8th grade teacher, Mr. Powur. He was subbing for the art teacher for about a month at Lucky Jr. High, and let's just say he had a certain thing for red-headed trouble-makers. I would always catch him staring at me during silent sketching time; it was pretty exciting. Mr. Powur was about 6"2 and had a body that looked like it was sculpted from marble. His curly hair fell perfectly above his green eyes. His lips were a little large, though I consider that a plus (if you catch my drift.) I was always staying after school because he would tell me that I needed the "extra attention."

And attention is all that I got from him. Mr. Powur was a simple man who was always straight to the point. The first time I stayed after school, he asked me if I would consider modeling for him. Readily, I agreed. The look in his eye told me everything I needed to know about this fellow, so nothing would surprise me. When I got to the classroom he said that he wanted to draw me in a place that has better light, so we went to his house.

As we arrived my skin was practically crawling out of my clothes. Right as the door shut I was reaching for the hem of my shirt- he promptly stopped me and said, "allow me." I swear I could have had an orgasm right then and there.  
Nothing more than some oral action ever happened between us, but I probably would have let him do anything to me. And I do mean anything.

It was an amazing experience. When his month was over, the usual teacher took over so I haven't seen him since then. That's okay though, it'd probably be extremely awkward for the both of us. I never told anyone about the events that transpired between the two of us because I don't think it's important for others to know. There's entire side of me that is a mystery to others; it makes me feel like a fucking badass.


	4. Chapter 4

**I made this chapter a little longer than the other ones, and I intend to keep the chapters about this length or longer. I'm sorry that there's so much cursing, I'm trying to capture the modern day teen in my writing. I have a bad habit of switching tenses so if you don't like that you probably shouldn't read this, I am not too good at catching my own mistakes. Anyway, I hope you like it! (I didn't outline this so it's really sloppy.) Feel free to critique idc. **

* * *

(Carl's POV)

I woke up Monday morning to the sound of my mother screaming at Dr. Dave. They have been fighting nonstop these past couple of days, and it's been very annoying. They fight over the stupidest shit, too. One time they fought over who got the right side of the bed. Mom and Dr. Dave's relationship may include a lot of arguing, but they still love each other a lot. This was definitely not how I wanted to spend my morning. I mean, it isn't like I wanted to wake up all cheery and excited for my first day of tenth grade like all those teens in the movies, but it would have been nice to wake up to the sweet smell of pancakes. I feel like I've forgotten what they taste like.

Things used to be so simple. My mom would wake me up, serve me breakfast, and then drive me to school. Now it's wake up to yelling, eat toast, catch the bus to school. I don't lead a very exciting life if you haven't noticed. I looked over at my alarm clock and sighed; it's 6:30. I only have 20 minutes to get ready or I'll miss the bus. I'm really not too keen on walking to school from here, so I got up to get dressed. I grabbed an old pair of baggy black pants, a t-shirt that was mostly white with black lettering on it, and a faux leather jacket that had way too many zippers on the front. After dressing I slipped on my usual dark brown steel-toed boots and headed downstairs.

When I entered the kitchen Ginger was sitting at the table with her laptop, typing at the speed of light. I grabbed my book bag off the coat rack and popped some bread in the toaster.

"Whatcha typin', Ginge?" I asked as I sat down at the dinning table.

"None of your beeswax, Carl."

"Wow, that hurt my feelings. I thought you were my sister."

"Please don't do this today. I have a 20 page thesis that I have to finish by tonight, and I've only done ten pages. I'm drowning here, drowning!"

"Holy shit, that sounds harsh. I'm never going to college."

"That's stupid, Carl. College is important."

"I call BS."

"Seriously. You'll never get a good job without it."

"Wanna bet?"

"Hell yeah, I wanna bet. I bet you'll end up as some street bum that follows people around for change."

"I bet that I'll end up as a big-league producer of horror flicks. Or maybe I'll own a chain of popular novelty shops. I could even an investment broker."

"An investment broker? Are you serious."

"No, but I'm drop dead serious about the other two."

"I can see you as a carnie."

"Ew, Ginge, no way. Do you know how they treat the animals? That's not my style."

"Your toast is burning."

"Wha-" I looked over at the toaster to see that there was smoke coming out of the slots, "oh man, this is totally your fault." I got up from the table and pulled the toast out, I hastily looked at my Alien Vs Predator watch. I don't have time to make any more, so I'll just have to eat at school. "See ya, Ginger," I called out as I went out the front door. While heading down the path to the bus stop, I looked over at the old Gripling's house. I remember when Blake used to live there. Now he lives on the other end of protected pines in a bit of a smaller house. It's got a more modern design with a lot more windows and different shades of brown. There were lights in the front, and though you couldn't see through the windows you could tell that it was bring inside. Honestly I like it much better than the old one, even though I haven't been inside the new one.

As I reached the stop it was 6:54, I made it just in time to catch the bus. When it I arrived I jumped onto it and saluted the route driver.

"Howdy there, Tommy-boy."

"Sit down, Foutley, I don't have time for this today; I'm on a tight schedule."

"What's the rush?"

"I'm going to drive this bus with or without you standing there."

"Okay okay, jeez, I'm sitting down." I picked an empty seat in the back and prepared myself for the thirty minute bus ride.

We arrived at the school at exactly 7:21 when the party was in full swing. Kids were arriving by foot, car, bike, fagboard, and of course the bus. There weren't a lot of people, but a few more than last year's haul of students; Just a couple more guppies in the pond that is LHS. I hopped off the bus and caught up to a face I recognized. "Hey, Brandon, wait up!" Brandon is a little bit smaller than me. He's about 5"5, with dark brown hair that matches his eyes, and a rather bony figure. His right hipbone iss always jutted forward which is kind of sexy. He wears pretty much the gayest shit you could think of. Pink shoes with glitter, a fucking monkey backpack, and Jesus Christ he's wearing pantyhose under his ripped jeans. He turned towards me and grinned.

"Hello, Mr. Carl. You look hot today."

"When don't I look hot, Mr. Faggot?"

"That's a harsh word," he frowned, "you shouldn't say it."

"Relax, dude, you know I don't mean it like that."

"It's offensive. Besides, aren't you one yourself?"

"I'm no fag."

"Now I know that's not true, Carl."

"I like tits."

"And penis."

"That's a bad word, Brandy-boy."

"You sure are a piece of work!"

"Yeah, but I'm a piece of work with a nice ass."

"You got that right, mister!" Brandon and I laughed and traded schedules to see if we had any classes together. It turns out that we have Biology and English together. Back when we were kids we didn't really like each other all that much, well I didn't like him at least. I didn't really like anyone. Everyone besides Hoodsey was a drag, and I wasn't really interested in having any more friends than I needed. Now he's kind of mellowed out so he isn't so bad. I mean, he's not my favorite person but he's not my least favorite either. I'd say Blake has that title right now.

The bell rung about ten minutes later and I headed to my first period class, which was World History. Here at LHS you get a four minute passing period, and a two minute grace period. If you're tardy without a note (or a nice teacher) past the two minute period you have to fill out a tardy reflection sheet. If you have three sheets you got Saturday detention. I think it's pretty stupid. If I wasn't afraid of losing my lazy Saturday I would never go to class on time. I always make it a point to make it one minute after the tardy bell, since you don't have to fill out a sheet for it. I have two sheets on record so I have to time everything or else I'll end up with detention. Most of my teachers hate me because I usually interrupt their morning greeting by walking in and yelling "SUP CLASS, ARE YOU READY FOR ME?" Today I got there early.

The class was filled with teens chattering about the latest gossip, blonde girls texting even though the friend they were texting was standing right next to them, and Hoodsey. He was sitting in the back on the right side of the room. I had no idea what to do. I wanted to sit next to him but I was afraid, would he want to sit next to me? It's only been a night since he told me to grow up. I opted out of confrontation and sat in the front left of the room, so that'd be harder to look back at him. I need to try and distance myself from him for now, or there'll probably be a permanent gap between us. I doubt I could live with that. After a couple of minutes Blake came waltzing in the room. He looked around until he spotted me, and then made his way to the seat next to mine. Before he could sit down I put my dirty steel-toed boot on the chair. He pulled out a handkerchief and shoved my foot out of his way. I guess he's feeling feisty this morning. "What do you think you're doing, Blakey-boy? This seat is reserved."

"Reserved for whom, Foutley?"

"My twelve inch dick."

"Allow me to correct your English. The proper word is two."

"You're way off, kiddo."

"Maybe by a half an inch or so."

"I'll show it to you."

"That's disgusting. I should report you to the authorities for sexual harassment."

"Go ahead. I'll just show it to them and they'll be so impressed they'll drop the charges. "

"Oh, yes, your genitals are so grand that you could get away genocide. Now please leave me be."

"You're the one that sat next to me."

"Indeed. I figured you may need someone to copy off of without Hoodsey being right next to you."

"Hey, fuck off. I've never copied off of Hoodsey."

"Would you expect me to believe that?"

"No. You're an asshole."

"At least my vocabulary isn't filled with crude words."

"Ooooh, burn."

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"I'm afraid not."

"Whatever. If I asked you to bend over you'd be laying across this table so fast you'd get whiplash."

"Why on earth would you ask me to bend over?"

"Ya know, so I cou-" I wasn't able to finish my sentence because the teacher walked in and shouted at the class to quiet down. Something about Blake made me want to say the most fucked up shit I could manage. Just his face pissed me off. Not to mention his voice, smugness, and way of dressing. Ugh. I want to puke. And I'm supposed to go to his house after school. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

(Blake's POV)

I haven't a clue why Foutley was so darned rude to me. When I attempted to sit next to him, he placed his foot on the chair. And as if that wasn't rude enough, he had venom in his tone. His foul language I have grown accustomed to, but him just plain mean is not something that I find to be normal. Though I would not let it get to me. Eventually he will fall head over heels for me and his tone will be nothing but soft when he speaks to me. I look forward to the sweet nothings that I'll receive from that vulgar boy. Carl also looks like he would be a fabulous kisser. As far as I know, he hasn't had THAT many partners in his past, but it's believed that isn't a virgin. Oh lord, I shouldn't be thinking about these things. What's wrong with me?

My thoughts were getting out of hand at a ghastly rate. But alas I cannot return from this road of thought...Carl has such a way of corrupting my beautiful mind. I mustn't let him get to me today. Even though he is a walking embodiment of sex appeal. Sometimes I wonder how he can be single. There has to be a large group of men and women sending him love letters. Maybe he has a crush on someone...? No. There's no way. I won't allow it. I need Carl. When the class ended I stood up and turned to face Foutley.

"What's your class list, Carl?"

"History, Biology, Geometry, Tech, English, Health, Art."

"Unfortunately we only have this block together."

"It's my lucky day." He grinned, winked, and then left me standing there like a fool. Someday I will get him back for all of the things he says to me.

I hurried quickly to my next class, English, and took my seat in the front as to see the board better. I haven't seen Brandon today so I wonder what he could be doing currently. We dated for three months last year and when summer came we lost contact, but never officially broke off the relationship. He's a very high-strung person, though he is not all that hard to deal with. He's no red-headed heart throb with an eyeball in a jar; he is, however, a very pleasant person to be around. In eight grade he came out as gay to his mother and she shot herself in the head during church. It is such a tragedy that anyone would be like that.

When lunch came I walked around the cafeteria searching for my 'boyfriend.' He seemed to be nowhere in sight. After about six minutes I found him sitting at a table with Carl. From afar their conversation had seemed innocent enough, but as I drew closer I could make out what they were saying, and I did not like it one bit.


End file.
